


Survivor Mentality

by deepestfathoms



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bessie is 16, Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Katherine is NOT baby. She’s like 26., Kitty is so sweet and gentle....tour howard is the supreme katherine, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Tour Bessie is Babey, Tour Howard is a Mom Friend, Tour!verse, UK Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: [UK Tour Universe]Katherine, who was reincarnated in an older body, is coping. She realizes, however, that someone who suffered like she did is not doing as well as she is. She makes it her goal to change that.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	Survivor Mentality

Maggie was bristled up when she answered the front door and saw one of the queens standing there. Howard wasn’t really sure what she had against them, but she wasn’t there to discuss morals and opinions with the guitarist.

“Is Elizabeth here?” The queen asked calmly. Ever since she was reincarnated in an adult version of herself, she found that she was much more calm, patient, and reserved. Stronger, too. She kinda liked it.

Maggie sniffed, slightly miffed because of something, then twisted on her heels and called into the lady in waiting residence.

“Oi, Ellie, someone is here for you!”

Howard noticed two things at this: The charming little nickname Maggie used and the faint squeak of surprise, followed by a sputtered, “What?” Maggie did a waving motion and it wasn’t long before Bessie appeared in the doorway with a black and white rat clutched tightly in her hands.

“You’re gonna crush him,” Maggie nudged the bassist, which causes her to start fretting over the rodent. The guitarist looked back up to Howard with a light snicker and says, “That’s Winchester, her emotional support rat.” A pause, “I’m surprised you aren’t freaking out about him.”

“He’s cute.” Howard said. Even if she was grossed out by the little vermin, she wouldn’t have voiced it. She’s seen how sensitive Bessie was and didn’t want to cause anymore damage to her obviously impossibly low self-esteem. “May I talk to Elizabeth for a moment?”

Once again, Maggie bristles, but her young face makes her look as intimidating as a baby black-footed cat. She does stand down, however, but not without saying, “Don’t pull anything, Howard.” Then to Bessie, with a gentle touch on her shoulder, “I’ll be right inside, Ellie. Okay?” To which Bessie would nod and the guitarist retreats behind the door.

“She’s nice,” Howard chuckled.

“She is,” Bessie said softly. “She’s really nice just-” She shook her head, “Is there something you needed, Lady Howard?”

“Yes, actually,” Howard said, “I was wondering if you would like to go out with me this afternoon. For lunch.”

Bessie’s head snaps up at that and she stared at Howard like elephants were parading out of her ears. She stuttered over her words for a moment, clearly surprised.

“Of course! I-I mean, it’s against my oath to deny the queen, but- why me?”

Howard frowned. The girl was loyal to a fault. Or, rather, she was too anxious to not be loyal to a fault.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, love. It’s alright.” She said, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m already always uncomfortable, so…” Bessie laughed hollowly and it made Howard’s heart twist up, “But, umm… I’d love to go. Really.”

Howard nodded, smiling warmly at the bassist to hopefully ease her nerves.

“Wonderful.”

That’s how, two hours later, the two of them ended going to a pub down the road from the theater. Howard noticed how Bessie looked around everywhere, noting windows and doors, possible objects that could be used as weapons, and the men.

Howard didn’t blame her. She had been the same way back in her past life- always making sure men were in her line of sight and not behind her. She’s gotten a lot better ever since reincarnation. The scars of her trauma are still present, she wasn’t going to act like she was invincible, but she’s stronger. She’s going to therapy and taking medicine and coping.

She is _living_.

Bessie seems to be doing the exact opposite.

“Are you in therapy, love?” Howard asked bluntly, but tried to be as gentle with the question as possible. It still bewilders Bessie and her walls are up in an instant.

“Umm- No.” Bessie quickly lowered her head and took a sip from the ice water she had asked for. They had been so close to finally making eye contact and Howard just ruined all that progress.

“How come?” Howard pressed, “Maybe Jane or I could help you get started? It helps more than you would think. Trust me, I never thought it would work.”

“Why waste money when I’m obviously not going to get better?”

That question, so soft and heavy, twisted Howard’s heart. Her eyes softened and she reached out to touch Bessie’s hand, but stops when she noticed the girl tense up. She simple sets her hand on the table.

“You will get better.” Howard assured her, “Why do you think you’re not?”

“Do I have to answer that?” Bessie asked, and her voice comes out as more of a squeak.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Howard said, “Don’t push yourself. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Bessie nods and stares down at the tabletop. Her shoulders are tense and her dark eyes display obvious pain. Pain Howard so desperately wanted to soothe and she wasn’t quite sure why.

That truly was what she wanted to do here in the first place, but _damnit all_ , this girl was hard to talk to.

Speaking to Bessie was like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall. Howard was sure she was full of interesting topics and intriguing facts, but she just didn’t want to speak with anyone but her band. In fact, Maria seemed to be the only one capable of really getting her to open up. Maggie, Joan, and Cleves were in close second, but anyone else? If it were anyone else doing the talking, Howard was sure Bessie would clam up if they simply asked what her favorite color was.

Bessie had to be one of the most paranoid people to ever grace England in well over a century.

Well, might as well test that color theory while they were sitting there…

“What’s your favorite color?”

Yup. Bessie very clearly did tense, but more out of surprise. She beats down her anxiety and glanced up into Howard’s warm, friendly eyes.

“I like light colors. Pale yellow, baby blue, grey. But purple is really pretty, too. Or ebony. Like, the shiny black.” She mused, slightly wry, but it’s the most in-depth thing she’s said since they arrived to the pub. “Autumn colors are nice, as well.”

Howard nodded, listening intently, even if it was just the girl telling her about what colors she liked. She wanted to make sure Bessie knew she wasn’t going to ignore her and was genuinely interested in what she was saying.

“What about you?”

Pleasantly surprised that Bessie asked her a question, Howard answered, “Scarlet or yellow. You’d think it would be pink because of my show color, but nope. It’s a little too flashy for my taste.”

That got the tiniest of giggles out of Bessie, which made Howard’s heart swell. She decided to offer to play 20 Questions to keep a conversation going and Bessie agreed.

That’s what the did for the next hour and a half- swapping questions back and forth and occasionally commenting or sharing short anecdotes to back up their answers. Howard learned quite a few things about Bessie, like how her favorite animal were rats (something she was shy about admitting; “I don’t care that they caused the plague, they’re cute!”) and her favorite season was fall. She’s shown in interest in forensics science (“Don’t ask me why, it just seems so cool”) and has admitted to dedicating an entire spiral notebook to trying to solve unsolved mysteries. She also draws a lot and swears she’s a cool person, she just needs five tries to get it right. That part was said through light laughter, which, once again, made Howard’s heart flutter at how the girl was more comfortable with her.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t all fun and games. The pub quickly became a slap to the senses with all its noises and smells as the evening got later and later. Getting used to the sudden surging crowd was hard, even when sitting in a table. A mediocre band was starting to play its loud music, everyone was talking at once, and all the movement was turning into one big mass of writhing limbs.

Bessie has her head ducked slightly, gritting her teeth while glancing at everyone in the room. This intrusion of her space felt more like a punishment than a fun way to spend the evening, and she began to wonder what she did to deserve it. Perhaps this was all a set up to begin with and Howard was just trying to get her to let her guard down.

“We can go.” Howard said, “I didn’t expect it to get this crazy.”

Bessie, despite her anxiety, always had a problem with not being able to agree to things, so she shook her head.

“No, it’s fine.” She said back, lifting her head only slightly, “I need to be able to handle stuff like this.”

Great, a fun evening together has turned into an coping exercise.

“Are you sure?” Howard tilted her head.

Bessie nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Alright… Let me know if you need to leave.”

They continue with their game, but Bessie is clearly more on edge. She’s glancing around everywhere, occasionally missing what Howard was asking her and has to hear the question again. Howard quickly has had enough of her obvious discomfort and knows she needs to get her out of there before she gets worse.

“Sweetie,” Howard gently touches Bessie’s shaking hand and the honey-slicked pet name rolls right off her tongue, “We can leave. Would you like that?”

Bessie nodded, not meeting Howard’s gaze, rather wide-eyeing the labyrinth of squirming limbs that had become the pub. She only looks away because her hand is squeezed and Howard beckons her to her feet.

While walking for the door, the two of them seemed to snare the attention of a pair of guys at a nearby table. They got up and loped over like hyenas with a dead gazelle in their mouths, ready to present it to their potential mates.

“Hey, ladies,” The brunette of the two said, smiling lustfully at the duo. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To our car.” Howard answered, stepping in between Bessie and the two guys, acting as some kind of barrier. Bessie is in awe at her confidence and strength; she knew about the queen’s history with men, but she didn’t seem bothered by the presence of masculinity at all.Or, if she was, she was really good at hiding it.

“Aww, don’t go so soon!” The blonde whined, “We were watching you. We could have a lot of fun, you know.”

Howard rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t even try.” She said. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m a lesbian.”

The two of them exchanged looks and then snorted.

“You just need a man to give you a good time.” The brunette says, which seems to offend Howard. He smirks. “Come on, baby.”

Howard growled, glaring daggers. She yelped loudly when the brown haired guy groped for her chest and that was enough to send Bessie into a frenzy.

“Don’t touch her!!”

Bessie grabbed the neck of the first bottle she could reach and smashed it on a table. Shards spray in every direction. Within seconds, jagged glass teeth were pointed at the pair of drunken suitors.

“Crazy bitch!” The blonde screamed, jumping backwards.

“Elizabeth, no!” Howard yanked the bottle free from her hands.

Without a weapon, Bessie’s anger was blown out like a candle. Wild fear flared in its absence. She was no longer a threat, but weakened prey. A wolf with a broken leg. And everyone could see it.

The pub was unmoving. Everyone was still, staring with wide eyes. They all seemed scared.

Hot shame bloomed in Bessie’s chest and she had to sudden urge to apologize.

Howard grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the crowd while she blubbered on her words, eventually falling silent. Neither of them spoke as Howard drives down the road.

The car comes to a halt at a forested area with a cliff face. Bessie vaults herself out of her seat, with Howard quickly following, as she expected the girl to run. Instead, she just stands at the edge of the overhang, staring blankly at the wine-dark sky.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m such a freak.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Why are you doing this for me? Why would you waste your time with someone as repulsing as I am? You have so much potential. You have a redemption. You have so much more than I could ever hope to have. So why? To pity me? To rub it in that you get a second chance and I don’t?”

Suddenly, Bessie Blount _made sense._

Howard heard from Aragon about the affair. The story she rattled out, words dripping with venom and hatred and bitterness, would make anyone feel betrayed if they were in the queen’s shoes. But Bessie in the story and Bessie now just didn’t match up. There was something being left out, or, perhaps, changed entirely to fit Aragon’s point of view.

“So this is what’s been upsetting you.” Howard said instead of answering Bessie’s questions.

“Upsetting?” Bessie echoed, “That’s an understatement for all the pain. I did terrible things. I’m guilty of so much. I only wanted to make a living in the castle and get back to my family as quickly as possible, but now I’m just…”

Her body convulses violently as she pounds her fists against her temples.

“Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!”

Bessie stumbled backwards into a tree and slumps to the ground against the trunk, hugging her knees. She’s shuddering and sobbing, now, rocking back and forth.

“What are you guilty of?” Howard asked calmly. She’s keeping her voice level, but it makes Bessie think she’s unfeeling and uncaring.

“You’ve heard what Catalina says about me. I was with the king for eight years while they were _married_. I got knocked up _twice_. And I lied to the queen so often to cover it up instead of coming clean. How could I even call myself a friend, let alone a human?”

“Why did you do it then?”

Bessie doesn’t answer.

“How old were you?”

Bessie still doesn’t answer, but she does squeeze her eyes shut. Howard kneels in front of her and sets a hand on her her knee.

“Sweetie,” Howard said softly, “How old were you?”

Bessie mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“Thirteen.”

Old memories flash behind Howard’s eyes for a moment.

Thirteen truly was an unlucky number.

Bessie took a few shaky breaths to try and compose herself, but it didn’t work. More tears spill free.

“Then it wasn’t your fault. You were just a child.” Howard told her.

“No, you- you don’t understand.” Bessie rasped.

“Explain it to me, then. Make me understand.” Howard said.

Bessie stared her with dark eyes that held a world’s worth of anguish. For a moment, she says nothing, then looked away, heaving her breaths.

“Life didn’t feel normal, Katherine. It still doesn’t. Nothing feels right. Everything is such a struggle…and it’s only getting worse.” She inhaled shakily, “It consumed my mind. It’s all I ever thought about. Doing simple things have become difficult. There have been so many occasions when I simply said _‘I can’t!’_ And I didn’t.”

“If it hurt that badly, why didn’t you say something?” Howard asked.

“Because I deserve it!”

Howard pursed her lips and frowns at the outburst.

“I could have stopped it.” Bessie finally laments, reaching deep into the past, “I was so goddamn broken and lonely at the time that I would have done anything to feel loved and needed, so I let him…- I could have stopped it. I _should have_ stopped it.”

Tears like molten lava burn trails down her cheeks as she recalls the past.

“I knew what he wanted for so long. I thought he was kind, but he wasn’t. He was only in it for himself and his own pleasures. _He never cared._ ” Her anger builds for a moment, then burns out. “He- I told him I didn’t want to, but he kept telling me that I should, that I should be good for him, that I should let him make me _feel good_ , that he loved me and knew what I wanted and needed!” She finally screams, breaking down completely, “He kept asking, and every time I said no he’d say it was okay and wouldn’t push it, but he kept bringing it up and started to get impatient and angry, so he-” Her body rattles with the intensity of her sobs, “He would tell me I should, _we should,_ I had to. And eventually I started believing him!”

She threw her head back against the tree, screaming and wailing into the night sky. She quickly buries her face back into her knees and pulled at her hair to try and combat the anguish, all while Howard watched on.

“He wasn’t ever satisfied. He wanted more and he used me as leverage to get just that. He used fear and pain so I wouldn’t leave him, but…that isn’t an excuse for what I did. It doesn’t justify my actions against the queen. His abuse…I deserved it.”

“No.” Howard suddenly spoke up. She grabbed Bessie’s forearms, squeezing tightly and making her look up, “No, Elizabeth, _no_. You don’t get to think like this. You absolutely did not deserve what he did to you. You were just a child. You didn’t know any better, nor did you have a choice against the king.”

“But he made me feel good.”

That makes Howard draw back slightly, grip loosening. The look Bessie was giving her, eyes so empty and glazed over, sent chills down her spine.

“I wanted it.”

Howard doesn’t know what to say.

“He said I wanted it, so I did.”

Unfortunately, if it were someone else there, she was sure they would be filled with nothing but disgust. However, she felt nothing but sympathy. Because she knew exactly what that was like.

The feeling that washed over her when she was with Francis wasn’t ecstasy or euphoria. The pleasure was pain in disguise. He made her feel like she wanted it, needed it, loved it.

But that was not love.

When Howard looks at Bessie, she doesn’t see a needy whore, but rather a broken, frightened, traumatized girl who was forced into hell against her will and robbed of her innocence. She was forced to enjoy rape. Some people…some people don’t recover from that.

But that doesn’t mean Howard can’t try to keep her from that crowd.

“I’m a slut.” Bessie whispered when nothing was said from the queen, hugging her knees tighter. “Everything Aragon says about me is true. I’m nothing but a dirty little whore!”

Howard squeezes her forearms again, but she refuses to lift her head this time.

“I want to beg for forgiveness,” Bessie went on in a hoarse voice, “I know I don’t deserve it, but that’s what I want.”

Whatever Howard did next, she had to think it through. One wrong word could make Bessie unresponsive to her.

“Elizabeth, look at me.” She murmured, “Breathe. Can you do that for me? Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not!” Bessie cried, “What I did… I-it’s not okay! None of it was okay!”

“Elizabeth.” Howard said more firmly, “I understand. You’re scared. Just know that I’m not going to hurt you for this, okay? You’re going to be alright.”

“ _No, no, no, no, no_ ,” Bessie sobbed over and over again, shaking her head back and forth, “It’s not okay. None of this is okay, and-” She chokes hard and the thing she says next shatters Howard’s heart into pieces, “I can’t get him out of me, Katherine.”

Silence.

Howard is crying, but the tears don’t register on her skin. She grits her teeth tightly and makes Bessie look her in the eyes as she speaks up.

“You don’t get to think like this because it was not your fault. None of it. He forced you to do things you shouldn’t have known about at your age.” She shook her head and repeated herself again, cementing the words, “None of the fault was your own. It was Henry’s.”

“There is no difference…” Bessie mumbled, starting to go numb.

“There is a _tremendous_ difference!” Howard shouts, voice raising a few pitches because of the shock. “You are not him!”

Bessie doesn’t answer. Her sobbing has reduced to weak hiccups and whimpers, but it’s obvious she’s still going through waves of intense pain and overwhelming anguish. She huddles her knees closer to her chest and tries to awkwardly escape the queen’s grasp, but Howard holds tight.

“Young lady, why is it so hard to believe that?”

Again, no answer. Bessie sniffled and tries to blink away fresh tears, and she’s surprised about her body being able to still produce them after all her crying.

“There is only one person out there that doesn’t forgive you and that person is _you_.”

Bessie’s heart aches like someone it reaching into her chest and squeezing it with burning talons until it bursts apart. She choked when she tried to take in a breath.

“Wh…” The word slurs across her tongue and she has to close her eyes and wait for the wave of dizziness to pass. Howard helps her through it by rubbing her shoulder. “What about Catalina?”

Howard narrowed her eyes, clicked her tongue, and said, “To hell with her.”

The next move she makes is a risky one in the state Bessie is in, but Howard eases her arms around Bessie completely and pulls her into an embrace.

For a moment, the girl is frozen solid. Then, she curls up into a ball in Howard’s lap and clings to her shirt tightly, holding on with whatever strength was left behind after her meltdown. Howard began to rub her back in soothing circles.

“You’re not a bad person, Elizabeth, you’re just made up of bad things.”

Those words hit deep, past the claws tearing Bessie’s heart to shreds, and sunk right into her very core. They were raw and held so much truth behind them. But, alas…

“I can’t believe you,” Bessie whispered, “Not now, at least. It just- it hurts too much… I can’t-…”

“Then let me help you,” Howard said, “Let me show you that I’m telling the truth. Let me make you believe. Please.”

Bessie is silent, unmoving for a moment.

Then, she nods.

Howard pulled the girl closer and lets her cry herself out into her chest. Her own tears have dried, but she knows Bessie’s will remain fresh for awhile. Until her eyes clear up completely, Howard can only brush them away each time they fall.

“We’ll be strong and strong together.”

One thing’s for certain: Howard wasn’t going to let Bessie become herself five hundred years ago- prey to several men, a personal plaything at people’s disposal. She was going to pull the girl out of the hole she’s dug for herself, even if it meant falling in in the process.


End file.
